


Cold

by AuthorAlex97 (Sweetie_Curfy)



Category: Sanders Sides, Thomas Sanders
Genre: Fever, Hurt/Comfort, Sickfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-12
Updated: 2018-03-12
Packaged: 2019-03-30 12:32:17
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,145
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13951617
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sweetie_Curfy/pseuds/AuthorAlex97
Summary: Logan does not feel well.





	Cold

**Author's Note:**

> This is just going to be a self-indulgent drabble that is heavily unedited and written on the spot because I’m tired and ill and want Logan to suffer with me. (Apologies for it having like zero continuity)
> 
> (Aha, I wrote and posted this like a week ago on Tumblr, I hope you folks enjoy)

When Logan woke up and noticed that he wasn’t feeling like being productive, he had his largest piece of evidence that something wasn’t right. The realization that he was using words like “feeling” was a close second.

Upon waking up that morning, he had taken note that the state of his throat was comparable to that of one who had consumed shards of glass in their sleep. Normally, when this happened, he merely needed to hydrate to rid himself of the sensation, however swallowing seemed to irritate it further.

Swallowing also brought his attention to his left ear painfully popping and throbbing. Logan winced and gently reached up to rub his finger carefully against the inside of the canal. He had hoped there was something inside to cause the discomfort, but he only received dried wax to disprove the theory. A frown etched onto his face.

He sniffled. Surely, there had to be another explanation for feeling like this. Perhaps Roman had adjusted his room to match that of a location with a lower climate and the temperature had affected the rest of the mindscape, drying the air and causing his mucous membranes to produce more in order to balance the fluids out. Maybe Patton had checked on him in the night and he had appeared to be overheated and he felt the need adjust the thermostat in his room. It was possible that Virgil had had an anxiety attack in the night and the fear had reached across the rooms and Logan had wept in the night.

A chill swept over his body, and he burrowed himself further into his comforter. The first two definitely seemed more plausible than the third.

There was a knock at the door. Logan quickly sat up and began to search for his glasses.

“Come in,” he called.

Patton stuck his head in the door. Logan was accustomed to his mannerisms enough by this point to safely presume he was smiling. “Morning, Teach!” he exclaimed. “Everything okay? You slept in pretty late today!”

Logan swallowed, regretting the action as soon as it was too late to stop himself. “I’m quite fine, Patton, I just… needed the extra rest, it seems. What time is it?”

“It’s almost noon.”

He froze. “ _Noon?!”  
_

“Mm-hm! Roman and Virgil already headed off for the day, so it’s just you and me,” Patton said. “Good ol’ Princey wanted to try to make Virgil a little less pale, so he changed his room for them to go to the beach. I would have gone with them, but I didn’t want you to be alone all day!”

Option one: disproved.

“That’s very kind of you,” Logan softly responded. “Have you any idea where I may have left my glasses?”

“Of course! They’re right here!”

Patton crossed the room and kneeled next to the bed, picking something off of the floor and placing them into Logan’s hands. Once they were securely on his face, Logan looked up just in time to watch Patton’s expression falter from joyful to concerned.

Humming, Patton pressed the back of his hand against Logan’s cheek. “You feeling alright, Lo?”

Logan retained the urge to sniffle. “I promise you, as far as I’m aware, I am perfectly healthy,” he responded. “My room just seems to be at a lower temperature than I’m accustomed to. Were you in last night to adjust the thermostat, by any chance?”

“No… Logan, your room actually seems kinda _warmer_ than normal,” Patton pointed out. 

Option two: disproved.

Without giving the chance for another word of protest, the Father Figure Figment moved his hand to Logan’s forehead; Patton’s eyebrows furrowed, and then he moved his wrist to the same place. He let out a soft _tsk_ and put his hands on his hips.

“Well, Teach, looks like you’re running a bit of a fever there,” he said. “You wanna tell me how you’re feeling?”

Logan let out a sigh. He was fully aware that attempting to push Patton away would only make any situation worse after he had entered a parental state of mind, regardless of how vulnerable and… _weak_ he felt being taken care of. In his exhausted thought process, however, it almost didn’t seem to bother him. Maybe he was more ill than he had previously believed.

Quietly, he listed what symptoms he’d noticed when he first woke up- ear and throat discomfort, chills, over production of mucous -along with the symptoms that had come to mind as he spoke, such as fatigue, aches, and a headache. Patton listened with surprising focus, only to gently ruffle Logan’s hair when he finished speaking.

“Sure sounds like a cold to me. Lay back down. I’m gonna go get you some tea and a warm washcloth for your ear, alright?”

He was out of the door before Logan could say anything else. Logan set his glasses to the side and slid under his blankets once more, fighting to keep his eyes open.

When Patton returned a few minutes later, he balanced the mug and the wet rag on top of a laptop and a stack of DVDs. Logan almost didn’t catch anything wrong with the scene, but as soon as he realized, he sat straight up.

“Patton, you’re going to damage your laptop!” he exclaimed.

Shifting everything into one arm, Patton took the washcloth and put it against Logan’s ear. “Hold that there,” he softly ordered. “The heat should help it stop hurting.”

Logan did as told and scooted a few inches over once Patton sat next to him; he carefully took the mug in his free hand as Patton set the laptop up in front of them.

“You don’t have to stay awake for these if you’re not up for it, but I figured you’d be too tempted to work if you were in here by yourself all day,” he explained, reaching for the DVDs. “Besides, it would have gotten pretty lonely. _Clue_ or _To Kill A Mockingbird_?”

“ _Clue_. Thank you, Patton.”

Patton looked at him and exaggerated his smile enough for Logan to see through his blurry vision. “Don’t sweat it, Lo! It’s what friends do. And anyway, I’ve got a _clue_ you’ll be sweating a whole lot once that flaming fever breaks.”

Taking a sip of his tea, Logan nodded. “I suppose I will be. I would much rather it be sooner than later.”

“You’ll be better before you know it.”

The opening credits began to roll, and Patton leaned back against the head board; Logan reached forward and tossed the blanket cover both of their laps before joining him. Resting his head on his friend’s shoulder, Logan let his eyes shut to the sound of the eerie thunderstorm. The warmth of the tea seeped into his hands as Patton’s even breathing began to lull him back to sleep.

His eyes shot open.

“Was that a freaking pun?”

**Author's Note:**

> I am... considering writing sequels to this, that would actually write out what I was planning at the beginning when I wrote the title, and maybe a couple with Virgil or Roman... If anyone would like me to do that, let me know!
> 
> Hope you enjoyed!


End file.
